


Eye of the Tiger

by ConsultingHound



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Fluff, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Prompt Fic, and by possibly i mean highly likely, oh god its fluffy, possibly too fluffy for mormor, the summary tells all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-29
Updated: 2013-08-29
Packaged: 2017-12-25 01:11:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/946864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConsultingHound/pseuds/ConsultingHound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From this prompt from imagineyourotp.tumblr.com:</p><p>Imagine your OTP having a lazy weekend. Person A starts singing something they know person B hates and refuses to stop, so person B kisses person A to shut them up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eye of the Tiger

**Author's Note:**

> Basically the summary says it all; I hope people enjoy!

Mornings were boring. Then again, afternoons weren’t much better and nights were always debatable depending on whether Tiger was in or not.

He had created the Consulting Criminal to be his very own personalised distraction but ever since he started delegating, it had become too much of a business. Sometimes, out of sheer boredom, he cut off one person’s strings just to see how far they would fall. Maybe he could do that today. Maybe that annoying Harrison, he was practically  _begging_ to be taken down. After all, Seb had said today had to be relaxing and what was more relaxing than watching that entitled arse’s miniature empire fall? He should probably start now, while the idea still held a little interest.

Well, he _would_ , if it weren’t for the problem of a sleeping 6’3 assassin that was crushing his chest and interlocked their legs; his blonde haired head resting on a pale shoulder. Jim had the horrifying realisation that he was essentially a) trapped and b) being used as a human pillow/ mattress. Unacceptable; he'd had people killed for less. _But_ such a lovely little temptation.

“Seb?”

“Seb, darling?”

“Sebastian, you know that if you don’t wake up I will start singing that _special_ song you love.”

There was a muffled groan and something that sounded like “If you fucking dare I will kill you here and now and feel no guilt” but after a moment, Moran was asleep again, Moriarty was still stuck and Harrison’s pitiful excuse for a life was still running peacefully. So Jim began to sing.

“ _Risin' up, back on the street/ Did my time, took my chances/ Went the distance/ Now I'm back on my feet/Just a man and his will to survive.”_

Surprisingly, Jim had a good singing voice, though the only people who had heard him sing often ended up dead within a few minutes.

“Jim,” a warning growl slipped through the blonde’s lips and he tightened his muscles as if to squeeze the song out of existence. Moriarty chuckled and  placed his lips to the sniper’s right ear, running his hands over the only place he could reach to; Seb’s tanned lower back.

_“So many times, it happens too fast/ You trade your passion for glory/ Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past/ You must fight just to keep them alive.”_

“James, seriously. Stop.” Sebastian wriggled slightly, trying to get away from the singing but not enough that Moriarty could get free. It wasn’t that he didn't like the _singing_ (he actually quite enjoyed it) but that _song_.

Usually, being the right hand to an empire with the kill count he had would have gained him a respect that was borderline devotion and enough power that he could take over a relatively small country without anyone knowing. However, ever since the Boss had started calling him Tiger _in front of people_ , things had changed. Not enough that he could legitimately justify killing them (the minions were there to serve a purpose and Jim got easily bored of having to replace them every 5 minutes) but small things. The striped pattern appearing all over his laptop, the cat ears and tail in the post (Jim had laughed and told him they looked ‘cute’) and that _song_. Everywhere; his phone ring tone, on every computer he used, even the doorbell had been changed at one point.  Now, here, on this Sunday morning, when he had insisted on having one day, just one little day off, his beloved psychopath was singing those infernal lyrics.

_‘It's the eye of the tiger/ It's the thrill of the fight/ Risin' up to the challenge/ Of our rival/ And the last known survivor/ Stalks his prey in the night/ And he's watching us all with the/ Eye of the Muhump.’_

The sniper stole the last word by pressing a bruising kiss to the others lips. The kiss at first was a forceful way of shutting him up but quickly grew deeper. Sebastian shifted, moving to sit up to straddle Jim’s slim hips when-

He fell forwards onto the mattress. His confusion froze him momentarily until he rolled over to glare at the smug looking man who had wriggled out from underneath him, currently slinking towards the door.

“Hey,” he said, arms open across the bed, looking slightly confused. James laughed, as he turned in the doorway to look at the mussed siper.

“Morning Seb. Big plans today, big plans.”

Sebastian groaned in response and threw his head into the pillows, causing Moriarty to laugh even more, before he walked away towards the kitchen. Turning his head, the clock on the bedside table read 8:30. He sighed as he realised it was the longest ‘lazy’ Sunday they’d had.  

One day he might even manage a whole morning. Yes… one day…

**Author's Note:**

> So what did you guys think? Did anyone catch the tiny hidden reference to another fandom? 
> 
> Copyright: The song is Eye of the Tiger by Survivor and the characters belong to BBC Sherlock and ACD :)


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